


Two Lies, One Truth

by BoomyMcBlasty



Series: Between the Lines [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Post-Time Skip, Spoilers for the Blue Lions route, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 16:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoomyMcBlasty/pseuds/BoomyMcBlasty
Summary: Ingrid covers her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t know you two were romantically involved.”Hilda winks and tells Ingrid two lies and one truth. “We’re trying to keep quiet about it. You know Marianne, she came out of her shell, but she’s still so skittish around people… I’m trying to avoid our classmates hounding her for details.”





	Two Lies, One Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in an alternate version of Azure Moon in which the Alliance and the Kingdom joined forces at Gronder Field.

Five years of war are a terrible thing to go through, but Hilda still knows how to have fun, unlike the generals of the Kingdom.

Alone in a corner of the Training Grounds, Felix is beating a hay puppet to death with his bare hands. He’s excused from her broad generalization, since his father’s death is still so fresh. Hilda can even excuse Dimitri, who has turned from Prince Charming to Prince Mangling, and back to Prince Guilting. But Sylvain? What happened to him? He used to be a fun guy to be around. Now he too is all ‘battle plan here’ and ‘marching route’ there.

Hilda peeks from one of the columns of the Training Grounds, making sure to stay out of sight. The troops she was supposed to train, fresh faced and hopeful after their joint victory at Gronder Field, are busy following the marching instructions of Ingrid, Queen Uptight herself. 

That’s _ bad _ . If Hilda decides to simply be late, she’s going to get chewed out. If she decides to leave the troops in Ingrid’s hands and spend her time doing something else, she’s going to get chewed out _ later _. There’s no escape from her lectures, which she has miraculously avoided until, well, now.

Ingrid calls two rookies on her side to demonstrate how to stay in formation when turning. Curse Claude and his idea to send half of the Alliance’s army to Garreg Mach…

Ingrid would not nag her in front of the new faces, right? Right? Hilda still waits until the break, bored out of her mind. Marching is so unpleasant… she feels almost _ bad _for the infantrymen they drag around everywhere. She hopped on a wyvern as soon as she could.

“You have ten minutes!” As soon as Ingrid announces a short pause, the rookies break ranks and relax. “The dining hall is that way if you need something to drink!”

Hilda walks out of her hiding spot with a practiced, innocent smile, and waves at the woman. “Hey Ingrid~”

“Hilda.” Ingrid’s tone is ice cold. “Fancy seeing you here, half an hour late.”

So _ that _is what Claude means with ‘Ingrid’s angry lines’. Goddess, Hilda has never seen a worse scowl. And he calls it cute? He needs help.

Hilda is in desperate need of a hero, but she knows that she’ll have to play the part herself.

“Sorry, sorry.” She tries her most charming smile. “I’m here now, right? That’s what matters.”

“Does it, now...” At least the rookies are out of earshot and Ingrid is keeping her voice down. “Praytell, what caused you to miss the first part of _ your own _ troops’ training?”

Hilda needs to approach the situation smartly, in a way to appeal to Ingrid and her way of thinking. She’s lucky she remembers some little details about the Faerghus general she can use.

“I was at the library, you see!” She lies with practiced ease, ignoring Ingrid’s squinting. “I have never trained so many soldiers myself… you know how bad I am at strategies and stuff.” One small truth every two lies, and even Ingrid’s face softens. In their Academy days, Hilda was infamous for her distaste for anything that required as much effort as commanding troops. “I don’t want to fail them… I was so absorbed in taking notes that I didn’t realize I was late!”

Hilda is playing dirty. Unlike the Alliance, the Kingdom has suffered heavier losses during the five years long stalemate.

Ingrid crosses her arms and the thin line formed by her mouth becomes, instead of angry, sad. “Very well. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Hilda beams at her “I will~ pinkie promise!”

“Revising is more productive the day before a drill.” The corners of Ingrid’s lips turn upwards, even if the frown is still there. “But you do strike me as a last-minute kind of person.”

“Hey now.” Hilda winks at her. “I’m not sure I should take it as a compliment.”

The rookies start to pour in from the gate. Time to actually work…

Hilda might have been roped into training the fresh faces, but she has no intention to do anything more than that. Once the rookies are dismissed, she waits until Ingrid is distracted; she needs to be quick. She walks away and tries to blend in with the crowd leaving the Training Grounds.

Someone tugs at her wrist.

“Hilda?” Oh, no. “Where are you going?”

She turns on her heels to face Ingrid. Hilda isn’t fooled by the smile on her face, that frown is homicidal.

“Oh, you know, I’m so hungry~” Appealing to Ingrid’s weaknesses, part two. “I was thinking of passing by the Dining Hall. Do you want a snack, by any chace?”

Ingrid purses her lips together, conflicted. Hilda can almost see the battle in her head between her gluttony and her duty.

Of course, duty wins. “I need you to help me store the training lances.”

Said training lances form a sad pile on the floor, and are all of different lengths, so they need to be catalogued as well.

“I’m sure Felix would _ love _to help someone as cute as you~”

He’s still in his corner, covered in sweat, still punching the hay puppet. Aren’t his knuckles one big bruise by now?

Ingrid’s frown drops. She shakes her head with pained eyes. “Leave him out of it.”

Oh shit, his dead father. Right. Even Hilda feels bad now.

“Well, I would _ love _to help you myself, but you see…” She has never used that excuse with her, so perhaps it can still feel fresh and fun. “It’s going to be hard, given my delicate arms. I have no muscles, you see.”

“Curious.” Ingrid deadpans. “I saw you swing Freikugel without a worry in the world.”

_ Crap _.

“It’s soo~ heavy! I still feel sore, and that was days ago!” To add dramatic flair, Hilda rubs her arm with a pout. “My noodly arms are not made for heavy lifting.”

Ingrid cocks an eyebrow. “Let’s see them. I know of a massage that can help.”

Absolutely not! Hilda is covering up her arms exactly because they’re not noodly anymore, quite the opposite—and yet it’s such a good excuse, one that usually works on the first try.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you~” Hilda needs to flee _ now _.

“Oh, but I’m offering~” Is Ingrid… imitating her? Is she intentionally cornering her, playing with her prey before dealing the killing blow? What a cruel woman.

_ Think, Hilda, think! _

She decides to make her best Lorenz impression. “It would be unbecoming of a young noble lady to expose herself in such a public setting.” 

“We can go to my room or yours.” It’s not working. Ingrid’s grin is absolutely devious. “I wouldn’t want to make a spectacle.”

Then, Hilda sees the light, at least metaphorically speaking, in the form of one Marianne. Her old room is next to Ingrid’s, after all. What would _ she _think? That is another angle Hilda considers, another weakness of Ingrid: matters of the heart. She is terribly inexperienced...

Hilda crosses her arms, holding onto the striped fabric that covers her. “I’m not sure Marianne would be comfortable with that.”

Ingrid is taken aback.

“In fact, I’m positive that having me _ strip _for another woman would make the poor thing jealous.”

Ingrid covers her mouth with her hand. Is it working? “My apologies.” It is! “I didn’t know you two were romantically involved.”

A half-truth. The cute Marianne is Hilda’s biggest weakness. Her laugh? Adorable. Her smile? So precious and tender. Marianne’s healing magic makes her skin feel tingly, as if she’s being peppered with kisses. Hilda remembers it feeling different during their Academy days, and is half sure her fancy is reciprocated, but she might also be projecting.

So she winks and tells Ingrid two lies and one truth. “We’re trying to keep quiet about it. You know Marianne, she came out of her shell, but she’s still so skittish around people… I’m trying to avoid our classmates hounding her for details.”

Looking honored, Ingrid bows to her. “Your secret is safe with me!” Bows! Hilda should have used the excuse earlier…

“I’m glad I can count on you~ Now, if you’ll excuse me… she’s waiting for me at the Dining Hall.”

Ingrid looks at the lances piled on the ground, conflicted. “I’ll take care of it for today.”

Not that much of a hardass when the sweet Marianne is involved, huh?

*

That evening, while dining, Hilda realizes she has made a terrible mistake.

Marianne is always at the stables, taking care of the horses and slipping treats to Dorte. 

Ingrid can be found there often as well, grooming the white coat of her pegasus and braiding its hair.

Now that Marianne is less shy, the two of them might _ talk _. Goddess, Ingrid might flat out ask how things are going between Marianne and Hilda—how would Marianne react? Would she combust on the spot? Would her gentle soul flee her mortal vessel out of sheer embarrassment? Or maybe she would just giggle awkwardly and ask Ingrid what could she possibly mean—only to find out that Hilda used her as an excuse to skip working.

That’s probably the worst scenario Hilda can think of. It took Marianne so much courage to open up to her. Having what they have built together—their tea dates, their attempts at cleaning, Marianne patching her up after a skirmish with the Empire—shattered by a misunderstanding like that....

“Ugh!” She pushes her plate on the side. It’s time to do some damage-control. “Here, Raphael. You can have my leftovers.”

Raphael’s face lights up. “Really? Thanks!”

Hilda stands up and fixes her skirt. Why is she even worried? She always looks great.

“Where are you going?” Raphael is already cleaning up her plate with gusto.

“To make a fool of myself.”

Hilda marches out of the Dining Hall and into the gardens. The walk to the stables is painfully short; the smell of hay and horses makes her nose curl, yet she can still admire the shifting hues of the evening sky. When she peeks from the corner, her heart skips a beat.

Her nightmare is right in front of her eyes: Marianne braiding Dorte’s hair and talking with Ingrid. Hilda can’t see their faces, and they could be talking about anything.

“Marianne~” She sings, approaching the two. “And Ingrid. Hi!”

Marianne turns to face her with a lovely smile. “Hello, Hilda.”

She needs to play her cards right to keep up appearances. Ingrid’s pegasus is not around, something she can use to her advantage.

“Ingrid, do you mind finishing up Dorte’s pretty braids?” she asks, before winking. “I need to steal away Marianne for a bit.”

“Huh?”

Unlike poor Marianne, Ingrid _ gets _it. “Of course!” Goddess, how gullible… Hilda almost feels bad. She’ll make her a cute hairpin as a way to apologize.

“Thank you~” She takes Marianne’s hand. She doesn’t have to drag her around; Marianne follows her looking confused and a bit flustered. That look should be illegal on her, and it makes Hilda’s chest feel tight.

“Hilda? Why did you need to steal me away?”

Does she sound concerned? Hopeful? Hilda doesn’t know what’s worse.

They reach a corner in the gardens, near the roses, and Hilda takes both of Marianne’s hands in hers. Goddess, the situation is romantic, yet what she’s about to say is anything but romantic.

“I need to apologize. I used you as an excuse.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Marianne smiles gently. “I don’t understand.”

Hilda takes a deep breath. “I used the ‘noodly arms’ excuse with Ingrid and she wanted to verify, so I told her that you’d get jealous and I might have led her to believe that we are romantically involved.” After blurting all of that out, Hilda is out of breath.

“Oh.” Marianne takes a step back, but doesn’t let go of her hands.

“I needed to tell you myself. I didn’t want a possibly misunderstanding to hurt you.” A warm realization blooms inside of her. “I don’t want anything to hurt you.” 

“Why did you say that I would be jealous?” Marianne doesn’t look angry, just disappointed, which is worse. “Lorenz or Claude would make more sense...”

Hilda wouldn’t care if they heard her enter Ingrid’s room. Now that she thinks about it, Marianne would probably think nothing of it as well—Hilda’s allowed to have friends, after all.

Still, imagining Marianne jealous, possibly hurt…

“I don’t care about them.” Hilda squeezes Marianne’s hands. “But if you actually felt jealous… well. I guess it would be _ nice _?”

_ Very eloquent, Hilda. _Well done. 

Marianne’s face becomes beet red. “It would?”

She’s not saying sorry, not running away. They’re still holding hands, hidden away in the gardens, next to the roses. 

Marianne is not pulling away, and Hilda feels bold. “I would love for us to be romantically involved as well.” It sounds a bit too much like her singsong, asking-favors self. Hilda schools her tone into something more somber. “I mean it.”

She dares to look at Marianne’s face. Her lips are pursed together and she looks dangerously close to tears. _ Oh no _. At the sight of those warm, doe-like eyes looking so sad, Hilda feels a pang in her chest.

Then, Marianne’s eyebrows knit in determination. “I would like it very much as well.” Her voice is soft, but betrays no hesitation.

_ Oh yes! _

Hilda draws her closer and puts Marianne’s arms around her waist, slowly, to let her back away if it’s too much. It’s not, and Marianne lets her cup her face. Hilda studies it with a blush of her own. “Really?”

Marianne nods, smiling so sweetly that Hilda can’t take it. She lets out a sigh of relief and rests her head against her chest. Deliciously soft… too bad for horse smell.

“Your magic changed, you know.” Hilda rubs her face against her, feeling her cheeks hot. “It used to feel so distant… now, whenever you use it on me, it’s like being showered in kisses.”

Marianne whimpers. “That… uhm…”

Hilda has never felt lighter. Marianne feels the same, she wasn’t imagining things! They _ have _danced around each other for the last year or so...

She giggles like a teenager. “Is that what you _ want _to do?”

Marianne swallows heavily and nods.

“Marianne! Such a go-getter.” A big smile forms on her face, turns devious. “How forward of you~”

“Here’s the first kiss.” Marianne, with the cutest blush and tender eyes, gently pushes Hilda away so she can dip her face and kiss her on the cheek.

Hilda’s heart is about to be destroyed by the small gesture. Sweet Marianne, pure Marianne… Hilda wants to give her a big kiss and peel off her dress to feel her skin against her own, but she can’t. It would scare Marianne and that’s the last thing she wants to do.

Hilda stands on her tiptoes and leaves a kiss on her nose, eliciting a delighted giggle. Goddess, Marianne will be the death of her.

“Give me another one~”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm SO weak for Marianne. She and Hilda are adorable together.  
I'm weak for Ingrid as well, that's why she's in there.  
I hope you liked it!


End file.
